A Love Worth Fighting For
by TheAmericanWeasley
Summary: What will cause two ex-lovers to realize it's time to start anew? As Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy struggle through an untimely predicament, they realize that all they need is each other. Written on request.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter_ or any of its affiliated characters.

This story was written by request for **moonserenity089**. This was yet another brilliant idea from you and I immensely enjoyed creating a story from it.

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_**A Love Worth Fighting For**_

a Harry Potter fan fiction

by TheAmericanWeasley

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Chapter One

The dimly-lit restaurant was the perfect setting for an evening of new romance. The waiters and waitresses, clad in their slim black clothing, treated each individual customer as royalty. The pianist onstage was accompanied by a beautiful singer, who provided alluring tunes with her delicate voice. It was simply perfect.

Hermione Granger looked over the large dessert menu at her date, who beamed back her, his smile nearly blinding. How could she have been so lucky as to attract the affection of Tyler Podwidgeon, a player for Puddlemere United? He was the essence of the perfect date—with his impressive height and muscle, smooth black hair, and an Irish accent that made women melt.

He slid his hand across the table, grabbing Hermione's and rubbing her thumb. "I am so happy," he said, "to have you in my presence this evening."

"I'm happy to see that your arm is feeling better," Hermione chuckled in response, nearly blushing. After breaking his arm during a Quidditch game, Tyler had immediately been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital, where Hermione—being a celebrated and professional Healer—had fixed him in a heartbeat. Flirting occurred during their encounter, which was how Hermione found herself with him that evening.

It was a bit dishonest, she admitted to herself, to be seeing Tyler under the pretense of being a single twenty-four-year-old woman, when in fact she was in relationship with another man named Adam, whom she had also been introduced to through work. While it was certainly nothing serious, Adam still held the title of her "boyfriend", as she was his "girlfriend", therefore dating someone else would be considered inappropriate.

_You certainly live on the wild side, Hermione_, the young woman inwardly joked. She knew her relationship with Adam—nor with this man, Tyler—would never turn serious, simply because she would not allow it to. The last time she had given her heart to a man it ended up broken, and that was not a path Hermione wished to walk down again. Casual dates and uncommitted relationships were innocent.

"I've been meaning to tell you," Tyler pulled Hermione out of her thoughts, "that you look absolutely beautiful in that dress."

Hermione bit her lip in hopes it would keep herself from blushing, looking down at her little black piece. Cho Chang, her friend and fellow Healer, had insisted that she go shopping for her date with Tyler, and the dress she currently wore was of Cho's choosing. Hermione would have to thank her later.

"Well," Hermione leaned forward and lowered her voice, "I'm sure the dress would look even better off of me. We'll have to find out later."

Tyler appeared slightly surprised by the boldness of her flirting, but he grinned nonetheless. Hermione grew excited at the thought of taking Tyler home for sex, so much that she had to cross her legs and bite her lip to keep from squealing like a foolish girl.

Sex had been a touchy subject for Hermione Granger whilst growing up. Her parents had been fairly conservative on the matter, heavily implying that sex was to be exclusive to marriage, but whenever Hermione directly asked about the subject, they responded with things like "You should wait until you're ready and in love" and "You can only give your virginity to one person. Make sure it's someone you won't regret the next day". And she _did_ make sure of this. While she did occasionally enjoy casual sex, she wouldn't give it to just any bloke who showed her the time of day. There had to be _some _connection; some genuine attraction.

She noticed that Tyler's knee was gently rubbing against hers beneath the table, and she smiled, enjoying the affection that he offered. The restaurant was busy that night, to the point where the employers barely had enough time to clear a dirty table before new customers appeared to occupy it. Among these groups of incoming people, Hermione noticed from the corner of her eye, was a blonde man and an equally fair-haired companion, who were seated in the booth on the opposite wall of Hermione and Tyler.

_No_, Hermione mentally assured herself, _it couldn't be_. But when she turned her head to allow herself a full view of the blonde man, she was discouraged to see that he was indeed Draco Malfoy, dressed in his finest attire and beaming at his date.

Hermione rolled her eyes and couldn't help but be annoyed, but Tyler seemed to not notice her expression as he began prattling on about the wizarding world's recent acceptance of common Muggle artifacts—even now, wizarding companies were creating their own cellular and mobile devices, with enhanced abilities, far superior to the simple technology of Muggles! An interesting topic, of course, but not enough to distract Hermione from her previous boyfriend of two years, sitting just on the other side of the room.

Draco must have felt her eyes burning into the side of his face, for he unexpectedly turned and locked eyes with Hermione. They stared at each other for several consecutive minutes, both of their respective dates oblivious to the exchange.

Suddenly, a faint chirping from Tyler's pocket pulled Hermione from her lock on Draco, and her date began apologizing as he produced a small mobile phone from the depths of his jacket.

"I love this thing," Tyler grinned, "a thousand times easier than writing letters! I'm sorry Hermione, would you excuse me for a moment? It's business related."

"Oh, of course not," she replied, not really caring. Tyler gave her a wink and excused himself from the table, taking his conversation outside.

Immediately, Hermione seized the opportunity to look back at Draco, whose date appeared to be rising from her seat to use the loo. When Draco looked back at her—as she knew he would—Hermione beckoned him over with a jerk of her hand.

He strutted over, looking proud as all Malfoys did, and took a seat in Tyler's unoccupied chair.

"What are you doing here, Hermione?" he asked. She couldn't tell right off whether his tone was that of annoyance or amusement. "On a date?" he answered himself.

"As are you," she scoffed in response. "Shouldn't you be working or something, Draco? I've noticed you've hardly been filling out your patient progress sheets accurately."

He grunted. "Excuse me for not being the most meticulous Healer at St. Mungo's. I suppose I've been distracted lately."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is that woman another one of your conquests? With that hair, she could be your sister."

Draco chuckled. "Believe it or not, that conquest you speak so judgmentally of is named Amanda. She's a natural brunette, but she told me she's always admired my hair and so has taken to magically altering her own colour. Pathetic, right?"

"If she's pathetic, why are you dating her?"

"You seem awfully interested in my love life, Hermione. Do I detect jealousy?"

"No," Hermione snapped, too quickly for it to be convincing.

"That man you are with," Draco changed the subject, "is not Adam."

"Adam is out of town. My date's name is Tyler," Hermione supplied, innocently tucking a stray curl behind her ear, "and he plays Quidditch for Puddlemere United."

"Impressive," Draco said bitterly, almost spitting.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Why do you say it like that? It's not like he's my husband."

"Perhaps not, but it's obvious that you enjoy rubbing your dates in my face to make me feel inadequate."

"Are you bloody _serious?_" she spat in a hushed tone, not wanting to draw attention to their bickering. "I don't need your approval before I date anyone!" Hermione bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from screaming. _How dare he._ "You'd better return to your tramp," she said, noticing Draco's companion emerge from the bathroom door. "She'll be wondering where you went."

"I'm not done talking to you."

"Well, I say you are for now," Hermione sternly replied, "unless, of course, you would like to meet my date." She jerked her head toward the entrance of the restaurant, where Tyler was reentering, adjusting the folds of his clothing. Draco remained equally stern-faced as he left the table, quickly reclaiming his seat with Amanda.

"Sorry about that, love," Tyler said as he sat down, "You know how business is."

"I completely understand," Hermione said indifferently. She was still glaring at Draco, anger bubbling in the pit of her stomach. What gave him the slightest right to have authority over her romantic life? But, even more so, why did she care so much?

_Well_, the devil inside her smirked, _if he wants to be so attentive, you should give him a show._

"Would you care for dessert, Hermione? I hear this place makes a heavenly soufflé. We would have to wait for its preparation, but it would be worth it—"

"Tyler," Hermione interrupted, finally turning her attention toward her date. She rose from her seat and stood over him, her dainty hands gliding along his broad shoulders. Lowering her face to his ear, she whispered to him, "I'm interested in a different kind of dessert tonight."

The young man flashed her a devilish smile before closing the small gap between them with a kiss. Hermione kissed him back for a few seconds, giggling against his mouth, before pulling away and grabbing him by the hand from his seat.

"No time to waste then, have we?" she said. The two exited the restaurant hand in hand, their faces glowing.

From Draco's perspective, although he had not heard their verbal exchange, their body language was enough for him to come to the heartbreaking conclusion that Hermione was to have relations with Tyler that evening. Sighing, he tuned himself out of Amanda's babbling, and cut half-heartedly into his steak.

* * *

Draco had never hated having to work with Hermione Granger so much. Ever since their unpleasant encounter at the restaurant several days ago, Hermione had literally been invading his every thought. He would choke in disgust at the thought of what she and that tosser Tyler Whatshisname did that night. But at the same time, he couldn't help but linger on how gorgeous she had looked in the dim light of the restaurant, her features glowing. Even now, as Draco gazed at Hermione on the other side of the hospital room, aiding one of her patients, he felt a pain in his heart and warmth in his nether regions when he saw how snugly fit her scrubs were against her chest ... good God.

"How is Mr. Johnson doing?" Hermione voice shattered his gaze, and he suddenly noticed that she was right next to him.

"Um—fine," Draco said, shoving his clipboard in her hands. "Er, I need some fresh air. Excuse me."

He escaped through the nearest exit and leaned against the cold wall outside, his breath steadying. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and ran his hand through his hair, inwardly wallowing in his own sorrow and disgrace. How did he ever allow himself to let Hermione Granger (of all people!) to have such an effect on him?

"Damn it," he cursed to himself, smashing his fist against the wall. "Why can't I stop thinking about her?"

"Because you're still in love with her," a new voice answered, and Draco jumped at the unexpected presence. He turned to see the giggling face of Cho Chang. Her working scrubs were dark blue, her smile was perfectly white, and her long black hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail. "I'm sorry, I was just coming back from my break when I heard you talking to yourself. Did I scare you?"

"Not bloody likely," said Draco, his pride still intact. "And there's no way in hell I'm in love with Hermione Granger."

Cho quirked her eyebrow at him, obviously not convinced. Draco quickly gave in, "Okay, so what if I still have feelings for Hermione? It's not like I'm going to act on them."

"Why shouldn't you?"

"Because—," he slumped back in defeat, "—she doesn't want me anymore. I'm sure she's told you about her hot date a few nights ago."

"If I remember her story correctly, you were on a hot date as well."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"And it doesn't mean anything in Hermione's case, either. Just because you see her with a random guy doesn't mean she's marrying him."

"So . . . she's not in any serious relationship with that Tyler guy? Or Adam?"

Cho grinned. "I thought you didn't care about Hermione's love life."

Draco gritted his teeth in frustration. "Look Chang, why are you really here? Just to annoy me? If that's the case, mission accomplished! Go back inside and check on your patients or something, damn it."

Cho's expression of amusement softened, and she became serious. "May I offer you some friendly advice, Draco?"

"I don't exactly consider you my friend, but okay," Draco spat.

Cho ignored his comment and smiled, speaking softly like a mother toward her child, "Draco, I'll tell you now that Hermione and I weren't always as close as we are now. In fact, when we were at Hogwarts I didn't care for her much at all. Our jobs here brought us together—and now I wonder why we didn't become friends the first day we met! I guess people change. But if there's one thing I know about Hermione, it's that she's passionate. I've never seen a Healer care for her patients the way Hermione does—and she's equally as passionate in her relationships. Now, I've personally never seen what Hermione saw in you—," she smirked at him, "—but I've honestly never seen her as happy with anyone as she was with you."

Though her words were sincere, Draco brushed them off. "If that's true, why is she dating Adam? Why is she seeing other blokes too?"

"Isn't it obvious? She's trying to distract herself from her feelings for you! I know Hermione, Draco, and she's told me how she feels about Adam. She doesn't love him—hell, the way she speaks of him lately, it's like she doesn't even _like _him—and their relationship is being held together by a thin string. Why not come along and give her a reason to cut it completely with Adam?" She paused then, allowing her words to sink in. When Draco didn't respond, Cho turned in the direction of the hospital entrance, turning her head to speak to him a last time, "I know you love her too, Draco. I think you should always fight for the one you love, don't you?" He did not respond, but her words affected him nonetheless.

* * *

"Emma, where's Draco?" Hermione approached one of her fellow Healers later that week, confused about the absence of her usual co-worker. "You're working today?"

"Oh, he's using a few of his sick days, so I'm filling in for him."

"Sick days," Hermione repeated under her breath, clenching her teeth in fury. That bastard was not sick! She was absolutely positive that he was avoiding her. First, his unexpected need for "fresh air" a few days ago, his unusual distance from her at work, and now not wanting to be around her at all! His cowardice had reached a new level.

Hermione made up her mind as she worked that day: promptly after her shift ended at three in the afternoon, she would visit Draco at his apartment and settle this conflict once and for all. She understood why it might have been uncomfortable for him to be around her at this time, but to allow such childish feelings to make him skip work? Ridiculous!

She kept her word to herself shortly after three in the afternoon as she Apparated to the front door of Draco Malfoy's apartment. She rang the doorbell and pounded the door three times to show she meant business. Draco opened the door a few seconds later, his forehead crinkled in surprise.

"Hermione," he smirked, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You seem to have made a remarkable recovery," she scoffed, "I thought you were sick?"

"Even I need my rest now and then," he shrugged. "Would you like to come in?"

"Please." Hermione strutted into the living room, already knowing where to drop her jacket and belongings. Draco's apartment was all too familiar to her.

Turning to her ex-boyfriend, Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but surprisingly Draco interrupted her. "Could we please stop pretending to be mad at each other?" he said, "It's getting tiring."

Hermione was baffled, but she couldn't help but agree. Sighing, she began softly but seriously, "This ridiculous charade has to stop now, Draco. I know you're uncomfortable being around me, but it's time to get past that. I'm going to date whoever I wish to date, and you have the same right. We have to work together and it's embarrassing that you're behaving this way just to avoid me! We dated . . . a long time ago! And now I'm starting to wonder what I saw in you to begin with!"

Hermione had officially entered her state of rambling, and Draco merely stood before her, watching.

"Draco Malfoy, you are behaving like a pompous bastard! What gives you any right to even think that you should have a say in whoever I date, whoever I shag? You know, I never told you this, but when we first started dating, you wouldn't believe all the crap I got from Harry and Ron when I told them. They only saw you as the same arrogant prick we knew from Hogwarts. I convinced them that you had changed—but you know what, now I agree with them!"

She continued to belittle him with insults, and Draco continued to stare, his mind wandering to the memory of his first kiss with Hermione. They had been getting along well, so he had invited her out for drinks after work. She rambled for an hour about a patient she was unsure how to cure—but her rambling was cute back then. He didn't know when exactly the temptation sank in, but once he Apparated her back to her flat, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her goodnight. And so he did. She didn't seem surprised as much as she seemed please, and they began dating soon after.

It was that very same temptation that caused Draco to look so lustfully at Hermione now, and he found himself slowly inching forward. Hermione stopped speaking, noticing his expression. Draco delicately placed his hand under Hermione's chin and placed the softest of kisses against her lips.

Her guard down, Hermione leaned against him and kissed him back, completely forgetting the fact that she was insulting him mere moments before. _This _felt right. This _was _right.

Draco pushed Hermione against the wall, deepening the kiss as his tongue invaded the crevices of her mouth. She moaned in response and wrapped her legs around his waist, their clothed groins creating friction.

Placing his hands around the curve of her arse, Draco hoisted Hermione into his embrace and carried her across the room to his dining table, where she laid lustful and unguarded. He tore his mouth from her lips to move down her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he lifted her t-shirt from her chest. Hermione repeated the same process on him, only she savagely tore his button-up, leaving a mess of buttons and fabric on the floor. Neither of them cared, as the sudden chest-to-chest contacted added even more pleasure to their osculation. Their lips never parting, Draco carried Hermione toward his bedroom, both of them knowing that their encounter was far from over.

* * *

The room in which Hermione woke up in an hour later was familiar, but not hers. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, turning to see who had their arms wrapped around her. She smiled when she saw that it was Draco Malfoy, and all the glorious events that recently occurred flooded back into her memory, and she smiled. He was drawing circles on her back with his finger, speaking softly into her hair, "Hello Sleeping Beauty." He sighed contently and continued, "This feels so right. So, are we . . . officially back together?"

"Unnecessary question," Hermione grinned back at him, kissing the side of his mouth. She was just allowing her tongue to slip into his mouth when a strange tune sounded from the pocket of her jeans (which had been tossed on the floor on Draco's side of the bed).

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You actually use one of those cellular phone things?"

She rolled her eyes. "They _are _a lot more convenient than writing letters and using owls! Wizards _can _learn something from Muggles, you know! Could you get it for me please?"

Draco produced the small device from the folds of her jeans pocket and gingerly handed it to her, looking disgusted that he had to touch a Muggle artifact. When Hermione looked at the bright screen, her heart skipped a beat as she saw the name "Adam" blaring back at her, revealing the identity of her caller.

"Who is it?" Draco asked, noticing her expression.

"Um, my mother!" Hermione lied quickly, her voice shrill with nervousness. She pressed the answer button and held the phone to her ear, inching away from Draco on the bed. "Hello?"

"_Hermione!" _came Adam's deep voice. "_I've just arrived back in London, love. I miss you terribly."_

"Er, I miss you too," Hermione replied. She stood up from the bed and moved to a corner of the bedroom, feeling Draco's eyes burn into the back of her skull. "How was your business trip?"

"_Well, it was business. It's good to be home. How has work been for you?"_

"I took today off," she lied, "I hung out with my friend Ginny." She didn't know why she was lying about that, but something told her that if she said she had went to work, the fact that she had slept with her ex-boyfriend might very well spill from her mouth as well. She was digging herself into a deep hole of deceit, and she figured that there was no climbing out now. "Can I talk to you later? I'm kind of busy."

"_Of course, love. I'll see you soon._"

Hermione held the phone in her sweaty palm and turned to look at Draco. He stood before her in only his boxers. His body language contradicted his expression: while his arms were crossed in impatience, his expression was nonchalant. The tension in the room was nearly tangible.

"Draco," she began, "I think we should talk about something—"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he spat. "That wasn't your mum."

She sighed and looked at her feet in shame, defeated. "No, it wasn't. It was Adam. I'm sorry I lied to you."

Draco shrugged. His face hardened. "You know, I completely forgot that Adam was still in the picture."

"He's not!" Hermione assured him. "Draco, you know I want to be with you. I was going to end things with Adam the first chance I got."

"Then why didn't you do it just then?" he said, motioning to her cellular phone. "Why lead him on any further?"

"Because—" Hermione was flabbergasted, "I may be breaking up with him, but that doesn't mean he deserves disrespect. To break up with someone over a phone call, could you imagine?"

He sighed. "I think I asked the wrong question. I should've asked why are you leading _me _on?"

"_What?_" Hermione was truly feeling lost.

"It's obvious that you still have feelings for Adam. I don't want to be in your way."

"Draco—!"

"I think you should leave Hermione," he said softly. "I promise to leave you alone."

"But, Draco—"

"I think you should leave," he repeated, sternly this time. He looked away from her and pointed to the door of bedroom. Hermione knew there was no point in trying to talk to him now, so she accepted the situation and collected the remainder of her clothing and belongings from the floor and left Draco's apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The next three months proved to be no help for Draco and Hermione's relationship. The week following their encounter at Draco's apartment, he applied for relocation at St. Mungo's and now worked on a different floor than Hermione. Hermione eventually broke up with Adam, but she knew it was too late to make things right with Draco, so she didn't even try. Besides, she had her own problems to worry about.

For the past several weeks, Hermione's health had been deteriorating. Nearly every morning she awoke to a severely upset stomach, nausea, and vomiting. Her body ached and her head throbbed terribly. She had prepared healing potions for herself, which worked for an hour or so before the pain and discomfort kicked in again. Hermione didn't let that interfere with her work, however, and she assumed her sickness was a result of stress.

Now, it was Hermione's lunch break and she decided to treat herself to a meal from a little restaurant in Hogsmeade. She delved into her hot pasta and salad while filling out some papers. (Cho often told her it was unhealthy to eat and work at the same time, but her advice went ignored.) As Hermione was searching for a specific paper, the pad of her index finger sharply grazed across the side of her document.

"Damn," Hermione cursed to herself, noticing a bead of blood emerge from the cut. She sucked on it lightly, hating the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

_Blood_.

She removed her finger from her mouth and stared down at her half-eaten meal. _No, no it couldn't be._ She searched in her briefcase and removed her personal calendar, flipping the small pages until she found the current month. Then she looked at the previous month. And the month before.

Blimey, had it really been that long since her last period? _Yes, _her mind inwardly scolded her, _yes it had._

Panicking, Hermione collected all of her papers, dropped them back into her briefcase, and abandoned her meal (leaving an appropriate amount of money on the table). She walked briskly through the streets of Hogsmeade, her mind exploding with a million questions at once, but the most prominent of them being—to whom should she confide in first?

Her parents? _No, absolutely not._ They had no idea of her brief reunion with Draco and she had no desire to have such an awkward discussion with her parents about her . . . sexuality. Ginny or Cho? _No._ They were her close friends, but she didn't want to tell them until she was sure of her situation. Harry or Ron? _Hell no._ The moment Hermione even implied that she was impregnated by Draco, her two male friends would undoubtedly go on a tirade of I-told-you-so's and "I'm going to kill that bastard for touching you!"—she couldn't handle that right now.

Crossing out person after person on her mental list of trustworthy people, Hermione finally came to a conclusion and Apparated to the appropriate flat. Remus and Nymphadora Lupin seemed surprised to see Hermione, but warmly invited her into their home regardless.

"Where's little Teddy?" Hermione asked casually, taking a seat on the couch.

The parents smiled. "Sleeping, it's been a long day for him," Remus answered.

"What can we do for you, Hermione?" Tonks asked in her usual bubbly voice, "Not that you're not welcome here all the time, of course."

"Oh, I know," Hermione smiled weakly, "I just wished to talk to you two about something. At this point, I feel like you two are the only ones I can go to."

The couple exchanged a curious look, but beckoned her to continue. "Well," Hermione began, "I think I might be . . ." she gritted her teeth, "_pregnant." _She was determined to remain ambiguous on the details. "I'm not sure yet, but I'm certainly experiencing . . . symptoms."

"Have you taken any tests, Hermione?" asked Remus, "Do you have any means of confirmation?"

"I haven't taken any tests yet," she admitted. "I could easily take one at St. Mungo's—I do work there, after all—but it's too risky. If anyone saw or found out, my reputation would be down the loo! I could see the articles that Rita Skeeter would write about me now_: "Hermione Granger: Professional Healer or Professional Harlot?"_. I _could _use a Muggle pregnancy test, but . . ." she trailed off.

"You're scared of the results," Tonks completed. Hermione nodded somberly, and Tonks continued, "Well Hermione, we'd be happy to conduct a magical pregnancy test for you. It would only take a day! I mean—," she shared a brief look with her husband, "—you're going to have to find out eventually. We'd love to help you through it."

Looking into the loving, concerned eyes of Remus and Tonks, Hermione knew she had to accept.

* * *

Boredom had never affected Draco Malfoy as much as it was now. He had just finished treating Mrs. Miller, a middle-aged witch suffering from a moderate form of dragon pox, with her daily dose of medicine, and was left with nothing else to do. He decided to head downstairs to the floor he used to work on . . . the floor that Hermione worked on. He just wanted to see if there was anything he could do to help, and if not, he would go on doing nothing until his shift ended. To his disappointment, the Healers seemed to have everything under control, so he was left with the unappealing position of doing nothing.

Draco was heading toward the lift to return to his floor when he passed a hard wooden door with an engraving that read "Hermione Granger: Senior Healer".

"Pfft," he scoffed to himself. Oh, the perks of being a bookworm since birth.

As Draco looked up and down the hallway, which was quite empty, a sudden curiosity overwhelmed him, and he pulled his wand from the pocket of his robes. "_Alohomora_," he whispered, and the lock responded with a faint click. He was just curious. He knew she wasn't there that day—what was the harm in looking?

Draco had never been in Hermione's office before, and it was nothing less than he expected. The room was ample in space, with dark hard wood floors and lavished with furniture of earth tones. On the walls were numerous framed pictures of Hermione's various awards and degrees. Wandering to her large, mahogany desk, he noticed a small picture turned over, which he flipped to reveal it was, in fact, a photo of them from the early months of their dating. They were both beaming and blinking happily into the camera—the picture of a perfect couple. _Why does she still have this on her desk? _Draco immediately asked himself, _why is it turned over? _He brushed a piece of dust from the side of the frame, and his elbow nudged against a stack of folders, sending them over the edge of the desk.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath and scrambled to pick the folders up. Each one had the name of a patient written boldly in black. As he retrieved the last folder, he noticed that it was the only one without a name. Instead of reading "**GREENLAND, Agnus**" or "**MILLER, Evangeline**" it simply read "**ANONYMOUS**". This immediately struck Draco as odd. Patients weren't allowed full treatment at St. Mungo's until they provided sufficient identification.

He opened the folder and found that there were no documents dealing with the ailment of the patient, let alone the identity. What he _did _find, however, were several documents about pregnancy, with titles such as "Are You Pregnant?" and "Magical vs. Muggle Pregnancy: Compare and Contrast".

_What the hell?_

Nothing added up here, and Draco's mind was going a mile a minute. Even though the voice in the back of his head nagged the answer, he wasn't going to assume anything until he talked to Hermione. He was done with being mean and being distant—now, he just wanted answers.

* * *

Hermione Granger was surprised to see the frowning face of Draco Malfoy on her doorstep that afternoon. They hadn't spoken directly to each other in _three months! _What could possibly provoke this unexpected appearance?

"Draco?" she said.

"May I come in?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Why are you here?" Hermione asked, not moving.

Draco snorted and gently pushed her aside, allowing himself entrance into her familiar living room. "I need to speak to you about something." He looked at her, eyes narrowed. "Do you have any idea what about?"

Her face was blank, having no expression of denial or knowing. She licked her lips uncomfortably. "No," she said, just above a whisper. "What are you talking about?"

"I found a very interesting folder in your office earlier today."

Hermione released a sharp gasp, her features contorting in anger. She placed her hands on her hips and her skin flushed a deep red that would put the ripest of strawberries to shame. "You went into _my _office?!"

"Yes," he said shamelessly, "and it's a good thing I did."

"How dare you!" she shrilly scolded. "You invaded _my_ office—_my _privacy! I could . . . I could have your job for this!"

He shrugged, his determination unwavering. "There was a folder titled 'ANONYMOUS' among your patient folders. All it had inside was a bunch of stuff about pregnancy."

She folded her arms and spat at him, "And? So what if it didn't have a patient's name? Maybe I know someone who wanted more information but didn't want to face the backlash for getting pregnant and not being married. I, Draco Malfoy, am a Senior Healer, and I have every right to admit an anonymous patient if I feel their reason is good enough and their situation is important enough. And this woman qualifies in both aspects."

"Would this woman be _you_, Hermione?"

"Shut up and get the hell out."

"Are you pregnant—?"

"_Shut up, Draco!_"

"—with my child, Hermione?"

Draco could practically see the steam shooting from Hermione's ears, but as an uncomfortable silence followed his question, she seemed to calm. Her brown eyes narrowed and her lips straightened into a hard line. "I'm not sure," she admitted, "I'm taking some tests. Magical ones, of course—I don't like the Muggle methods. I will tell you tomorrow, I should know before then."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Draco asked, softening. He now regretted speaking so meanly to her. She had as much information as he did—very little.

"Because . . ." she began slowly, "firstly, we don't even know yet. And you haven't seemed too eager to speak to me lately."

"Well, why should I when Adam—"

"You fool," she retorted, "I broke up with Adam a while ago."

He was tempted to ask "Why didn't you tell me?" again, but he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing he missed her. Instead, he steered the subject back on track, "So, what if you are pregnant? Is it mine?"

Her eyes burned. "Of course it would be yours. How many blokes do you think I've been shagging? Well . . . assuming I'm pregnant, I plan to raise the child on my own."

"You can't possibly—"

"I can and I will. I'm not saying you won't be part of his or her life. I'll allow you to visit often and once I deem you responsible enough you can take him or her to your home for a few nights a week. There is no use in trying to use my possible pregnancy as an excuse to rekindle our relationship. You know we aren't compatible in that way and throwing a child into the mix would only make it miserable—for all of us."

She paused, allowing her words to sink in. Draco stood before her, feeling a dozen emotions at once. In less than a day he discovered that he could possibly be a father . . . and that if he was, he wouldn't be able to be part of his child's life nearly as much as he would like to. Or Hermione's life.

"Like I said, we don't even know yet," Hermione repeated, gentler this time.

"Have you been experiencing any symptoms?" Draco asked softly.

She shrugged. "I _was_ sick for a while," she said, "but while I was taking the pregnancy tests and looking into my health, I discovered I had Muggle influenza. I can't believe I hadn't realized it earlier, especially considering I've had Muggle influenza before, but I guess I was so caught up in the possibility of me being pregnant that I overlooked everything else. I whipped up a special potion to cure it and now I feel fine. So I guess no—no, I haven't experienced any symptoms. But, as I've read, lack of symptoms within the first few months doesn't exactly rule out pregnancy—with magical pregnancies, at least." Draco only nodded in understanding, allowing an awkward silence to commence.

"Um," he spoke finally. "I should be going. I have an evening shift at the hospital."

"Okay," Hermione replied, "I promise I'll let you know as soon as I know. Goodbye Draco." She opened the door for him.

"Goodbye," the young man said without looking at her. He tried to smile as he exited, but it was forced and painful. The sound of a door closing behind him had never been so unpleasant.

* * *

Almost immediately following Draco's departure, Hermione gathered a fresh pair of yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt and escaped to the comfort of her bathroom to take a shower. She needed a hot shower after the day she had. She deserved a hot shower. Not to mention, she was expecting Remus to arrive with the results of her pregnancy test later that evening and didn't want to look flustered after her encounter with Draco. She would've told Draco about this meeting, but he was already in way over his head.

Hermione turned the water to a scalding temperature, slipped out of her clothing, and stepped in. The steam and heat against her freckle-dusted flesh was exhilarating. She lavished her skin in rose-scented liquid soap and sighed in pleasure as it dripped down her body . . . down her breasts and bare stomach . . .

Something dripped down Hermione's leg in a small bead. She knew instantly it wasn't water, nor was it the soap. _No, it couldn't be. _Hermione swiped her fingers along her womanhood, and when she brought the evidence up to her face, she discovered that it was indeed blood. She then looked down, seeing several more crimson beads falling slowly from between her legs and onto the bottom of the tub, mixing with the thin layer of water before disappearing down the drain.

The sigh that escaped from Hermione's open mouth was one of mixed emotions. The first was _relief_, of course. As much as Hermione loved the idea of having children one day, she simply wasn't ready during this time of her life. This was followed by an unbearable sense of _embarrassment_. She didn't even want to imagine how red her cheeks would be as she told Remus that it was a false alarm. Telling Draco would be undeniably worse.

"Oh no," she murmured to herself.

_Draco._

A thousand feelings and thoughts were tearing through her body like a strong current, but a particularly potent one was confusing her the most. Why was she, in the midst of this glorious relief, feeling a twinge of sadness?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Draco enjoyed his morning shifts the most. He got to spend them in the nursery, tending to all of the newborns until they were ready to be taken home by their parents. As much as he hated to admit it, he loved being by these little bundles of life. Yes, they cried, whined, and made messes, and they all had an unbearable amount of needs—but they all seemed to have a common desire: love. He was almost jealous of them. These babies literally had their whole lives ahead of them, and the problems of adulthood were far from their reach.

He was feeding little Thomas Green—who was the son of one of his co-workers Paula Green—when he remembered that today he would discover whether or not he would be a father. He didn't know how to feel, or if what he _was_ feeling was right.

He wanted to be with Hermione and their child, he knew that for sure. Draco knew what it was like to have an inadequate father, and would not treat his daughter or son the way his father had done to him. (Thank God his father had been sentenced to Azkaban for his affiliation with Voldemort—Draco couldn't even _imagine _the fit he would throw at hearing his pureblooded son had fallen in love and bred with a Mudblood!) He would _not _watch from the sidelines as his child grew up, even if that's what Hermione wanted him to do. Draco wanted to be a father, and it wasn't out of obligation. He loved Hermione Granger, just as he loved the little girl or boy that was inside her.

Placing baby Thomas down for his nap, Draco checked out of the nursery, knowing exactly what he would say to Hermione the moment he saw her.

* * *

He entered the staff lounge first, which was empty as usual. Draco found that the employees at St. Mungo's didn't take breaks nearly as often as they should. It was almost always empty, but it was for that very reason that Draco knew Hermione liked it because she could work and have a cup of coffee at the same time without distraction or interruption, but today his intuition failed. He sighed and slumped against the closed door, but was quickly pushed off it as someone else opened the door in a rush, sending him toppling.

"Damn it, Hermione!" Draco exclaimed, seeing it was none other than the bushy-haired goddess herself. He straightened himself up and brushed off his robes. "I was just looking for you."

"As I was looking for you," Hermione replied. She was panting, making him wonder just how long she had been looking for him.

_This was it._

"Look, Hermione—" he began.

"No, wait. Draco, I'm—"

"No, you wait," he interrupted, "I need to tell you now, or I'll never get it out. I love you, Hermione Granger, and I love the child that you carry. I'm going to be a part of his or her life, and there's nothing you can do about it. But I just don't want to be a man that visits him or her now and then—I want to be a father. And," he took a step closer to Hermione, "I want to be in your life too."

Hermione smiled, but her eyes remained melancholy. "Draco, I'm not—"

"I was in the nursery this morning," he continued, "Hermione, seeing a those little children . . . it made me realize how ready I am for fatherhood, how much I _want _fatherhood, especially if I can share the experience with you."

"Draco, I'm not pregnant!" She hated to burst his happiness and enthusiasm that way, but it had to be said, otherwise he would have continued and just gotten his hopes up that much more. A heavy pause followed her outburst, and Draco looked at his feet, clearly devastated at the news. He felt as if he had lost something he never had to begin with. "I . . . I figured it out on my own, shortly after you left last night. And then my good friend came over with my tests, which proved to be negative. I'm definitely not pregnant."

"How did you know before you got the tests?" he asked softly.

Hermione bit her lip. "Well, er, Mother Nature decided to pay me a late visit, if you know what I mean."

"Oh," Draco said, grimacing. "I see."

"Well," Hermione tried to sound optimistic, "Now that we don't have an unplanned pregnancy hanging over our heads, we can move on. It's what's best for both of us, Draco." He didn't respond either verbally or physically, so she continued, "Er, I'm getting a promotion, can you believe it? I've actually been offered the job of Head Healer at another magical hospital. That's the only thing that's keeping me from accepting right away though, the fact that I would have to transfer. I've come to love working here so much."

"If you're just trying to avoid me," Draco said, "don't worry about it. We work on different floors now, remember?"

Even though being even further away from Draco _was _a perk of the potential job, Hermione didn't have the heart to admit it. Instead, she replied angrily, "Why do you assume everything I'm doing is to get away from you? I've been offered an amazing job for someone of my age that is of even higher status than the one I hold now. If anything you should be happy for me. Besides, I'm still thinking about it. Nothing's official yet." Draco failed to respond, and Hermione decided to take the opportunity to escape. "Goodbye, Draco," she said softly.

Draco jerked his head as a form of dismissal. When he looked toward the door, she was gone. As Draco slumped toward the counter to make himself a cup of pre-prepared coffee to burn away the pain, tears threatened to emerge in the back of his eyes. He pushed them back forcefully and raised his mug to his lips, letting the liquid flow into his dry mouth.

He spit it out a second later, disgusted by the bitterness. Bloody hell, the coffee was cold too. With nothing else to do and nothing else to fight for, Draco proceeded to making a new batch.

* * *

Three weeks later, Hermione Granger was met with the surprise of a birthday party, celebrating her twenty-fifth year of life. She had insisted to everyone who knew her not to throw a celebration—as Hermione was partial to quiet, intimate gatherings with only her closest of friends and family—but there was no stopping them.

Harry and Ron rented out a large section of a new buffet restaurant in Hogsmeade, though how they managed to do such a thing was beyond Hermione's knowing. The restaurant itself was extremely exclusive and expensive, and something told her Harry and Ron used their statuses as saviors of the wizarding world to lessen the expenses. (Not that Harry and Ron were financially challenged in any way, with both of them being professional Quidditch players. But still, Hermione thought, it seemed to be such a frivolous purchase for a one-night event.)

She was practically dragged there against her will by Ginny and Cho, but once she was there she knew the night would be fantastic. Familiar, smiling faces instantly greeted her with choruses of "Happy Birthday, Hermione!". She saw Harry and Ron, of course, with Ginny and Cho at her side, along with the other Weasley's, Hermione's parents, a few Hogwarts teachers, and the entire Order of the Phoenix. Also present were (much to the displeasure of Harry, Ron, and Ginny) a few friends that Hermione had made through her previous relationship with Draco Malfoy: Daphne Greengrass, her boyfriend Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott. Though the three were still proud Slytherins, their pureblood supremacist ideology had faded with maturity. Ginny, who had composed the guest list, invited the three purely out of kindness, since she knew they were friends of Hermione.

Hermione was elated to be surrounded by all of these people that she loved, so much that she was almost able to forget the one person who was on her mind the most.

"Hermione!" Harry Potter exclaimed at the side of her. He engulfed her in a hug and kissed her on the cheek. "So good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Harry!"

"Look," he lowered his voice, eyeing the mingling crowd, "before everyone else steals your attention for the rest of the party, I want to personally give you my gift."

"Oh, sure."

Harry fumbled in the pocket of robes for a minute before producing a small, rectangular box, wrapped in a bright red. "Here we are," he said, handing it to her, "I saw it a few months ago and knew I had to get it for your birthday."

"What is it?" Hermione asked, carefully tearing at the wrapping.

Harry chuckled. "Just open it and see for yourself."

Hermione gasped when she opened the box and saw a truly lovely necklace. From a silver rope chain hung a pure diamond pendant, large and circular, surrounded by a silver design, resembling a teardrop. It was extraordinarily beautiful, especially in the dimness of the restaurant.

"Harry, I—I'm speechless!" said Hermione, "It must have cost a fortune! I couldn't possibly accept—"

"Oh, yes you can," Harry grinned. "Here, allow me." He delicately took the necklace and box from her, putting the box aside, and placed the necklace around Hermione's neck, left perfectly bare and exposed by the cut of her dress. It hung heavy and shined bright.

"Harry Potter, what am I going to do with you?" she beamed at him.

"You've already done quite enough for me, Hermione," Harry supplied. "You were there for me from beginning to end, even when others weren't. For that I couldn't be more grateful. You're my sister, Hermione," he added with a friendly nudge. "Thanks to you, I'm alive and able to be with the woman I love." He jerked his head toward Ginny, who was deep in conversation with Cho Chang.

Hermione could almost cry. "You know I've always thought of you as my brother, Harry." The two hugged, and Hermione felt a pleasant warmth at having such comfort.

A moment after they broke apart, a large man with a thick mustache entered through the double doors leading to the kitchen, announcing that the food was prepared in a profound Scottish accent, followed by at least half a dozen servants pulling out large, heated trays of food for guests to serve themselves from. Hermione's mouth watered and she wasted no time in helping herself from the finest cuts of steak, side dishes, and wine. It _was _her birthday, after all.

* * *

An hour later, Hermione was licking the last bit of frosting from her birthday cake off of her index finger. She couldn't believe she had eaten so much, or that her body allowed her to do so! Why, she even gave Ronald Weasley a run for his money! Still, when Ginny and Cho pulled her by the arms into the dancing hall, she couldn't resist.

Unnoticed by the younger guests, the older party-goers had retreated to a corner in the dance hall, conversing and sipping at various alcoholic beverages. Remus and Tonks talked in particularly hushed tones to each other, watching Hermione on the dance floor.

"She seems to be quite all right, Remus," Tonks observed.

"Good," her husband replied.

"Do you think she'll tell anyone about this little scare?"

Remus shrugged. "I don't know, love. Hermione doesn't like secrets, but this one would probably cause more unnecessary drama than relief."

"What's going on now?" came the mousy voice of Mrs. Granger from next to Tonks, and the couple shared a shocked look. "Are you two talking about Hermione?"

"Oh, um, Mrs. Granger . . ." Tonks fumbled, "perhaps this isn't the best time . . ."

"Is something going on with my daughter?" the suddenly concerned mother continued. Remus shared a glance at his wife, who nodded in silent approval. "Mrs. Granger," he began, "could I speak to you outside the dance hall, please?"

* * *

Draco knew it was unwise, rude—creepy, even—for him to following her every move, but that's what he had been doing, which is how the young man found himself in front of an elaborately decorated restaurant in Hogsmeade. He didn't know why he was there or what he was planning to do. He just stood, watching the unmoving building. He knew today was her birthday, and she was probably in there haven't a bloody good time—who was he to ruin it?

Just as he was considering departure, a friendly voice said, "I never thought you'd turn out to be a stalker, Draco Malfoy."

Draco looked up, only mildly surprised as to the source of this new voice. "How nice to see you, cousin," he replied. "How are you Nyphmadora?"

"You know I don't like being called that."

"I know," Draco smirked.

"Why are you standing out here?"

"Why are you?" he retorted.

Tonks shrugged. "My husband is in there practically taking a beating from Hermione's mum. Thought I'd get some fresh air before I check the progress."

"Hermione's mum?"

"Why are you out here, Draco?" she asked again.

It was his turn to shrug, at loss for an adequate response. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

"You should come inside and join the party."

He snorted. "The moment Potter or Weasley see my face, I'd be forced out. They never approved of me with Hermione." When Tonks quirked her eyebrow, he continued, "Okay, I guess I can understand why. I was a right bastard to all of them in our Hogwarts days. But those days are long gone—time to grow up, don't you think?"

"Well, maybe you will get kicked out and maybe you won't. You have to take the next step."

"Do you enjoy speaking with that annoying air of mystery, cousin? You've perfected it."

Tonks was quick to appropriately steer the subject. Her near-permanent smile softened. "Draco . . . I'm really sorry about the pregnancy. Well, the false alarm, I should say."

"You know?" He was utterly taken aback.

"Yes, Hermione came to us first to talk about it. It was my husband who even conducted the tests for her."

Draco struggled to seem nonchalant. "Doesn't matter to me. Just as our potential baby didn't matter to her."

"You're a terrible liar, Draco," Tonks giggled, "and I'll tell you now that Hermione wanted a child with you."

"You think so?" He couldn't help but perk up a little.

"I know so," Tonks reassured, "After my husband returned home from discussing her test results with her, he told me about the pure disappointment he saw in her eyes. She wanted to be a mother to your child, Draco, she just doesn't want to admit it to herself or anyone else." She began walking back towards the restaurant. "I hope to see you in the restaurant within the next five minutes, Draco Malfoy," she added jokingly, "Or else."

* * *

The party was finally beginning to die down, and the guests were forming a large group near the front door, hugging, giving goodbyes, and wishing Hermione a happy birthday several more times. What no one was expecting, however, was to see Remus Lupin attempting to hush Mrs. Granger by the door, who seemed to be asking a million questions at once. The audience quieted in curiosity and Hermione emerged to the center of the room, watching.

"Listen, Mrs. Granger, I know it's a bit of a shock to hear, but as I've explained before, I assure you she's not—"

"Are you or are you not telling me that my daughter is pregnant?!"

Several gasps were heard as every head in the room turned to Hermione Granger, who immediately flushed a bright crimson. She bit her lip and shook her head, backing away from the crowd. She had never felt so embarrassed and exposed in all of her life . . .

Ginny was the first to break the painful silence. She approached her close friend and grasped her by the shoulders. "Are you really pregnant, Hermione?" the redhead asked, shocked.

"How come we're only finding out about this now?" said Harry. Hermione turned her face toward him and clearly saw the sadness in his expression. He thought Hermione, the sister he never had, would come to him about anything.

"Why didn't you come to us sooner?" said Cho, who also joined Hermione at her side.

Ron shoved his way through the crowd to stand before Hermione. He crossed his arms and frowned at her, like a father scolding his teenage daughter for sneaking out with an older boy. It was almost annoying how protective he was. "So, who's the father?" he finally asked the question that was surely on everyone's mind.

"It's obviously Adam, ginger," snapped Daphne Greengrass. "That's the only man she's been with recently."

Blaise actually chuckled. "Isn't it obvious? It's Draco. That's why she didn't want to tell anyone."

"No bloody way, Hermione!" shouted Ron, "Please tell me it's not him! Out of any bloke on the world, please tell me it's not that ferret!"

It was well out of control. The guests burst into fits of questions and Hermione was shoved one way and then another, every time confronted by a new face asking a similar question. The hot tears welled in her eyes and her body temperature was rising steadily, dangerously high . . .

"Please tell me Malfoy is not the father," Ron begged.

"Is it true?" Ginny urged, "Are you really pregnant?"

"I don't understand why you and Draco broke up in the first place!" said Cho Chang.

The people in the room were thriving on any bit of information that would escape from her mouth. She almost felt betrayed that she was being subjected to this intense questioning by her own friends and family—people who loved and cared about her. However, she knew that the reason for all of this controversy surrounding her supposed impregnation stemmed from the fact that she was Hermione Jean Granger—the perfect student at Hogwarts, defender of the wizarding word, and a celebrated Healer—making her the last person that _anyone _would suspect of being found in this situation.

"Okay, that's enough!" Hermione finally found her voice, "Shut up!" Her voice bounced off the walls, shrill and loud, and the room quieted immediately.

"Everyone," Hermione attempted to steady her breath, "I am not pregnant. It was a false alarm." She turned to Ron. "And yes, Ron, if I were pregnant—which I am NOT—Draco would have been the father. But it doesn't matter at all," she added, turning back to the audience as a whole, "I'm not with child, and even if I was, Draco has made it more than clear that he isn't interested in any sort of relationship with me."

"I implied no such thing," came Draco Malfoy's voice from the side door of the building. Everyone turned and watched with excited awe as he approached Hermione. (Blaise and Theo smirked, having expected he would somehow intervene. They knew their friend too well.) "I told you I love you. _You're _the one who suggested raising the baby as single parents so we wouldn't have to be miserable together. _You're_ the one who made it clear that you didn't want a relationship."

"But . . ." she was at loss, "but you seemed so relieved what I told you I wasn't pregnant!"

"_Relieved?_" He almost laughed. "Hermione Granger, are you bloody blind? I was devastated when you told me! You just didn't see because you didn't wish to see. Stop thinking that you know what I'm thinking—because even _you _don't know everything, dare I say it."

Hermione simply stared as he continued. "Hermione, I wanted you to be pregnant. I wanted to have an opportunity to connect with you on a level that we never had before. When we first broke up those few years ago, it was because I was immature and you wanted someone more serious. I've grown into that man, and I wanted to prove it to you by being there for you during your pregnancy."

She actually smiled. "We could've gotten back together if you hadn't behaved so cryptically. We shouldn't need a pregnancy scare to rekindle our relationship, Draco."

"You're right," he took another step toward her.

"I don't think either of us is ready for a baby, anyway," she admitted. "But still, the thought of having a family with you seemed—"

"Amazing," he finished her thought.

Hermione looked up at him, their eyes meeting each other's. "Yes," she whispered. "Amazing."

"Hermione," he took her hands in his own, "baby or no baby, I want to be with you no matter what. I've experienced what life is like without you for far too long, and I don't ever want to have to return to that again." Draco moved one of his hands to grab her by the chin, slightly tilting her face upward towards his own, and ran his index finger along her bottom lip. "Is that clear enough for you, Granger?"

"Crystal," she grinned in return. There was no need for further conversation. Leaning in, the couple finally closed the small gap between their faces in a passionate kiss. Draco's hands instinctively slithered around her waist, crushing her petite frame against his own, while her arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss.

Their audience erupted into whistles and squeals of joy. Even Ronald Weasley clapped. If Hermione was happy, Ron was happy—even if she was with a slimy ferret.

"I don't mean to intrude," said Harry, breaking free from the crowd and interrupting the glorious reunion, "but, well, we _do _still technically have this place rented for another half hour, and it looks like we've got a lot more to celebrate other than Hermione's birthday."

The party began anew, but Draco was impatient. "Hermione, don't you think we deserve some alone time?" he yelled over the music.

Hermione smirked and placed her lips against his ear, replying huskily, "Oh, just be patient, Draco. I promise we'll have an even better celebration in my bedroom later." He chuckled and pulled Hermione into his arms, together at last. Knowing what he had to look forward to, Draco figured he would go ahead and enjoy his love's twenty-fifth birthday party.


End file.
